Saturday's Child
by CaptainSlowLovesHisHamster
Summary: "She blinked up at him and shook her head, "I…I don't remember a show. I was at…a con. I know your Mike, I know you're from the Monkees, but I don't know where I am or why you all are here." 'And young and alive', She added mentally." Sammy Jo wakes up in a hospital in 1965 with no memory of her life with the Monkees. She only remembers her 'imaginary' life in 2015.
1. Saturday's Child

"You can go back inside, i'm fine, I promise," Sam said while leaning against the cool, brick wall.

Her best friend, Larry, just shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette. "Don't mention it. I needed a smoke anyway." He ground the snub into the wet ground and smiled, "Besides, if you're about to have a freak out, I should be here."  
"She shook her head, "Nah, I just needed to be outside. You can go in, I swear."  
"Larry side-eyed her then sighed. "Alright, text me when you come back in and i'll find you."  
"Sam just nodded, wandering further int o the dark alley.  
"He didn't even get to the door before he heard a car screeching to a stop and then a ringing, wet '_**thump**_'.

_"I think she's waking up!"_

_"Go get Micky!"_

_"Oh thank God, I thought she was gone!"_

Sam groaned, hearing the distant voices hover over her, and a door being shut gently. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was being at a convention, being at the rave, she couldn't breath…so she went outside….and she didn't see the headlights in time.

Someone was getting…Micky. Who was Micky? 'Probably a nurse, or something.' God, her head hurt.

She opened her eyes, seeing two men standing over her. One was short, with brown hair cut in a bowl shape, while the other was tall with curly black hair, covered in a green beanie. They smiled down at her with big eyes. They kind of looked like…

"Davy, Mike, I can't find him anywhere! I think he locked himself in the bathroom." A man with blonde hair came huffing in, looking worried. His eyes locked onto hers and he smiled, "Sammy! You're awake!"

She couldn't help but to groggily smile back. This was obviously a brain damage-based hallucination, causing her to think the Monkees were hovering over her hospital bed. Where was Larry? Her parents? How long had she been out?  
Her thoughts were suddenly broken by a nurse busting in, suffocating the room with a cheery atmosphere. She had a bright, glowing face and a warm smile that could melt a glacier.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so glad you're awake! How are you feeling, dearie?", her hair was up in an old fashioned back-bun, and her winged makeup was a little bit more than a side affect of the vintage trend.  
"Um…" she blinked a few times, "A little light headed, I guess." she sat up, with the help of Mike. She'd seen Peter and Davy run out of the room, probably on the hunt for Micky.

The nurse, (Barbara, her name tag said,) ticked her tongue, writing something down on her clipboard. "All right, sweetie, that's perfectly normal. What's the last thing you remember?"  
Mike bit his lip nervously while she answered, "Uh…being outside…I stepped into the road without thinking…and…I remember headlights."

"You starting having a panic attack at our show last night, so you stepped outside. You walked into the alley and…and the guy driving didn't see you.", Mike chipped in, resting his hand on her shoulder.

She blinked up at him and shook her head, "I…I don't remember a show. I was at…a con. I know your Mike, I know you're from the Monkees, but I don't know where I am or why you all are here." em'And young and alive', /emShe added mentally.  
Barbara looked at her with worry. "Mr. Dolenz should be on his way, and i'm sure he'd be happy to fill in the blanks. I don't think it's amnesia, just a bit of confusion and jumbled up thoughts, all of the stress." She smiled, setting the clipboard back down and stepping out of the room.

Mike sat down in a chair next to the bed and looked at her worriedly. "You…don't remember meeting us?"  
She shook her head.  
"Don't remember…Micky…?

She shook her head again. Why was Micky so important? Sure, he was her favorite Monkee, but that didn't really count in this situation.

He looked down, taking in a deep breath. He looked back up with glossy eyes, "Aw, man, I don't know how he's gonna react to that. Just…" he snapped his head to the door, seeing Micky open it rather quickly.

"Sammy!", he shut the door again, running up to her bed and hugging her. "Oh, I was so worried, I thought you would never wake up, it's all my fault, I'm so so sorry, i'm so sorry," he mumbled into her shoulder, running his hands through her hair.

She hugged back on instinct. "It's…fine…"  
Mike tapped him on the shoulder, sighing. "Micky, man…"

He looked up at the guitarist, "Yeah?"

"She..she doesn't remember bein' friends with us, man." He crossed his arms looking apologetic.

Micky looked at him, then to Sammy, then back to Mike, then back to Sammy. "He…he's just joshin' me right?" He was breathing heavily and nearly bouncing on the bed, "You…you remember me, don't you?"  
"I know your the Monkees, but I don't remember knowing any of you. I remember being with my friend, then being hit by a car, then being here." She shrugged, "Sorry."

"The nurse said it wasn't serious, though. Just the stress on her skull, she should remember in a few days," Davy pitched in, walking in with Peter.  
"She also said it was okay to tell her anything, we can fill in any blanks for her!", Peter said happily.

"Okay…well…" Micky turned back to the girl. "You're our roommate" she nodded, feeling a little shocked. He took her hand, "And you're in California, and…we've been dating for almost a looked at Sammy, ready to gage her reaction. Micky's breathing slowed down, and Peter nervously tapped his foot. It was silent for the longest moment.

"I've been dating…Micky Dolenz….for a year?", she sounded flabbergasted, and Mike was scared she would freak out, maybe think they'd kidnapped her. Instead, she sat there twiddling her thumbs in shock. She looked up at him and smiled. "Groovy," she wrapped her arms around him, (still convinced this was a fever dream), and squeezed. /span/p  
He hugged back, laughing and blinking away his tears. He took a deep breath, "I'm just happy you're okay."

"Nurse says we can bring her home 'soon as she's ready," Davy grinned. /span/p

Sammy smiled, pulling away. "Just need to get dressed." She looked down at her hospital gown with distaste.  
Mike jumped up, handing her a bag. "We brought these, just in case you woke up."

Micky helped her hop down from the bed, and led her to the connected bathroom, handing her the bag. He smiled down at her before she shut the door

Finally alone, she took a look in the mirror. She cringed, seeing her messy hair and the bags under her eyes. "Ugh," she made a disgusted noise at the mirror before digging inside the bag.  
She pulled out a knee length black dress, with mid-sleeves and white trim. She oohed at it for a minute, before slipping off the hospital gown and stepping into the dress. She put on the pair of black Mary Jane's at the bottom of the bag, and tried to do something with her hair. Giving up on that endeavor, she looked at herself in the mirror. She smiled, imagining what Micky would think.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Are you okay?", it was Peter's shy voice.

She stuck her head out of the door and smiled, "Just tryin' to fix my hair. S'not going so smoothly." She stepped out and waited for there reactions.

Peter smiled goofily, nodding. "You look great!"  
"Mike nodded, "He's right, even with that hair.  
"Davy elbowed him in the ribs, "Hey, be nice." He turned to her, "Your hair looks lovely."

Micky shyly walked up to her and grabbed her hand. "You look real nice, Sammy." She smiled and squeezed his hand.  
"All right! Let's get you home, girly! Maybe spark some of those memories up!" Davy said, opening the room door. Peter pushed her out of the hospital like an excited little kid.

_**Yay, chapter one! I hope you enjoyed and please, please, Read and Review! It really does mean the world to me when you give me suggestions. **_


	2. Hold on Girl

"You don't remember this?" Micky held up a pink and green teddy bear, looking at Sam expectantly.

She shook her head, but took the bear in her arms. It was so soft, and it made her feel safe.

"I won it for you at the fair last summer. You said you could'v won it for yourself."

Sam mumbled into the bear, "Sounds like me, yeah."

They were sitting on an old couch, in a familiar house. She had been very surprised to find herself in the actual Monkee house. They'd even driven home in the (ridiculous) Monkee-Mobile. Everything was exactly the same from the T.V. show. Or maybe it wasn't a show at all.

Mike was in the kitchen, cooking spaghetti and chicken, (her favorite, Peter had added happily while playing taste tester), and Davy was upstairs getting more things to help spark her memory.

So far they'd shown her a load of art supplies, a red trumpet with a pink 'M' painted on the side, the bear, and now Davy had brought down a small box full of photos. She shuffled through them while Micky watched patiently.

The first one she picked up had Micky sitting on a banana seat bike in the driveway, and herself sitting on the handlebars squinting in the sun.

Another one had her and Micky in the middle of a field, with her giving him a piggyback ride and looking the happiest she'd felt in months.

The next was a close up of Mike's goofy smile, with Micky's messy hair peaking out from under bed covers. Next to him was her, screaming and reaching for the camera angrily.

"You locked him out of the house in the rain after that," Micky added gently, looking through the photos himself. She snorted, looking down at the pile. If there was any doubt before, it was long gone.

"I'm sorry I don't remember," She bit her lip, "I hope it comes back soon." She really did feel terrible.

"Hey, hey, it ok." Micky said, grabbing her chin. "It's not your fault. It'll come back, I promise."

She smiled back and grabbed his hand. They stayed like that, staring at each other until Mike came in yelling about dinner.

"Okay, so how did we meet?" Sammy asked, shivering in the cold beach wind. Micky saw this and slipped off his army jacket, handing it to her. They were sitting down in the sand, looking at the dark waves go by. He'd told her she loved the beach at night. She believed it.

"You ran away from your folks back in Missouri, and while you were hitch hiking we picked you up. We drove you here and you just...became a Monkee." He shrugged, playing with a fistful of sand.

She nodded, slipping on the jacket. "Oh." So she really did have a life in the '60's? "What... What was wrong with my family?"

Micky blinked at her, "I thought you would-" He sighed. "They were drunks, they hit you. You told me the first night you stayed here that you wouldn't go back. You were almost 18, so we just hid you and they just...stopped looking."

"You guys did that for me?" She was shocked, they could've gone to prison for kidnap or something to that extent. And just for her!

He nodded, "Sure we did! We couldn't let you go back to that." His voice cracked and he coughed. Shaking his head, he spread his fingers and watched the sand slowly spill out.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, grabbing his arm. "Thank you."

He put his arms around her and kissed her head. "Anything for you, sugar top." He whispered into her hair.

The nickname sparked something in the back of her mind, but she just couldn't reach it. She was too tired to deal with it anyway.

"So, why me?" She broke the silence.

"Why you what?", he asked back.

"Why are you dating _me? _I don't remember really anything, but I know i'm not much."

Micky gripped her shoulder harder, frowning. "You're right. You're not much. You're the whole thing. I'm dating you because I really like you, Sammy. You just came into all of our lives like a God-send, y'know?" He sighed, "I don't know how to explain it. I just...I like you because you're you."

She wanted desperately to remember her life in the 60's. It ached in her chest like an old wound and she wanted it gone. She wanted to remember Micky, remember there love. She just sighed, staying there with him until she couldn't stand to keep her eyes open one more moment.

**Chapter two! Yaaay! :D**


	3. Pleasant Valley Sunday

_Sunday. It's Sunday. Day of rest. _

The sunshine was leaking into the room, resting on Sammy's face.

_My bed feels...different. Why does it feel so...odd? _

She smiled, remembering the night's dream.

_What a fantasy. I'm going to open my eyes and see my same old bedroom. The same old Beatles posters, same old bed, same old life._

"C'mon, love, wake up i'm bloody bored!"

The second Davy's voice crashed the restful silence her eyes flew open. She sat up quickly and looked around, seeing a cluttered bed room and the smile cutting through the brit's face. She most definitely was not in her same old room, with the same old Beatles poster, or in the same old bed. She was actually lying in a heap of black and white blankets on an old stile bed. There were still Beatles posters everywhere, but they weren't hers. This absolutely was not the same old life.

Once her breathing slowed to a normal pace, she looked back at Davy who hadn't stopped smiling.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just thought you'd like to...wake up?" He shrugged and pat her shoulder.

She stared at him like a deer in the headlights. Eventually Davy's smile hardened into a look of worry and he sat down next to her. "What's wrong? Did I really scare you?"

She shook her head and gathered her thoughts. "No, no, it's not that!" She coughed and rubbed her eyes. "It's just...it's nothing." She smiled at him and he gave her a skeptical look.

"Promise?" He shook his finger in her face.

Nodding, she stood up. "Promise."

He finally smiled and stood up as well. "How about some breakfast, yeah? The others are still wakin' up."

After everyone had woken up and wandered into the kitchen, they sat at the small table and talked about the day's plans. And by 'talking about the day's plans', that of course meant 'Look at Sammy and rammer on about fun ideas.'

"We could go to the beach!" Davy suggested.

"Or go see a movie!" Peter interjected.

"What about the Vincent Van Go-Go?" Mike asked, leaning onto the table.

Sammy looked between the three of them, feeling a bit rushed to make a decision. Micky hadn't said anything, content to watch the fiasco of a band try to be patient. Eventually, the drummer had pity on them all and stood up.

"I, MICKY DOLENZ, DECLARE THAT WE SHALL GO TO THE PARK!", He broke out into his Shakespearian accent, miming holding a skull.

They all looked at each other and nodded, humming in agreement.

"Here-e Here-e!, and all of that stuff," Mike pulled out an old gavel from under the table and nodded. "All in favor of Micky's groovy idea say 'Eye'"

"EYE!" They all screamed, while Davy poked at his closed eye and fell out of his chair.

"Notion carried." He slammed the gavel down on the table top, causing said gavial to shatter in pieces. He sighed, setting the piece back down and shaking his head.

"You're being quiet," Micky nudged Sammy's shoulder and smiled.

The two were walking down the park's concrete path, holding hands and enjoying the fresh air. The other's weren't in sight but Micky knew that they were following close behind and watching.

Sammy smiled back, squeezing his hand. "Just thinkin'", she replied.

"'Bout what?"

She shrugged, watching a kite soar above the tree tops. "Stuff."

He put her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles, "Groovy."

"What do you think they're talking about?" Davy squinted through the binoculars, crouching behind a big rose bush.

"I don't know, man, but they sure look happy." Mike interjected.

"Ah, young love..." Peter gushed while batting his eyelashes .

Davy shook his head and looked back, seeing Micky kiss the girl's hand. "It's goin' well, at least!"

"You know, man, this reminds me of their first date.." Mike started drifting off, remembering the night Micky had taken Sammy off for a walk on the beach, to tell her how he felt. He remembered Davy waiting out in the living room like a stern father, and Peter excitedly tucking himself into bed. He, himself, had followed the two on the beach, staying in the shadows and reading lips.

Letting out a wistful sigh, he zoned back in, noticing the other two had left. He looked around, seeing the couple had walked past as well. Flapping his arms, he ran down the path in search of his friends. "C'MON, MAN!"

Finding a shady tree, the two sat down on the cool grass and leaned back on the rough bark. Micky handed her a vanilla ice cream cone, (her favorite, he remembered), and licked his own chocolate one. She let out a heavy sigh and set her head on his shoulder.

"Y'know, even if I don't remember, I think I still like you."

"Oh, yeah?" He looked down.

"Yeah," she nodded, and shuffled closer. He put an arm around her and leaned his head against hers.

_'I hope you remember. I want you to remember what happened the other night, 'cuz I don't think I got the guts to do it again.' _He just coughed and rubbed her shoulder with his thumb.

"What's going on now?" Peter asked, leaning on Davy's shoulders.

"They're just cuddling, they're not talking." Davy shook his head, setting the binoculars down.

"You think she'll ever remember?", the blonde asked sadly, taking a seat next to Mike.

The texan let out a loud 'huh' noise, picking at the grass. "I knew it."

"Knew what?", Davy sat down too.

"I knew something was going to happen. She was too good. She made Micky too happy. She kept Peter too busy. She helped you" he pointed at Davy, "with too much. She wrote too many good songs." His voice cracked and he shook his head again.

The other two just stared at him while he fought off a breakdown.

"She was too good, and we didn't deserve her, and now she's gonna leave." His texan accent came out in it's entirety while he started crying. He was blubbering random words like "Sammy" or "Never again."

The two stayed silent, feeling awkward. Eventually, though, Peter wrapped his long arms around the other man and squeezed.

"Don't think like that! You heard what the nurse said, it was temporary! We can get her to remember, no matter how long it takes. Got it?"

The texan nodded miserably, wiping snot and tears off of his face. "Got it." His hat even seemed to droop.

"Yeah, mate, all we've got to do is be patient and I'm sure-" The brit's thoughts were cut short by the sound of Micky happily screaming.

The three men looked over the side of the toy rock wall they'd been camping out in. They saw Mick holding onto Sammy, twirling her around. He was smiling and screaming, "SAMMY! MY SAMMY! YOU REMEMBERED!"

They jumped over the wall, running towards the commotion. Seeing them, Micky sat her down on the ground and smiled.

"HEY GUYS!" He was breathing heavily and still holding onto her.

"Hey", they were winded from running and poor Mike didn't think her could take anymore emotional stuff that day.

"THE BEST THING JUST HAPPENED!"

"What?" They said in winded unison. They were anxious.

"She remembered..." He took a second to breath and Davy motioned for him to continue, "She remembered... us pitching in to buy that old record player for her room!" They all yelled happily, wrapping there arms around her in a group hug.

She laughed, leaning against all of them. "It's not much but..."

Davy sighed, "You're doing great!", he leaned against her and smiled.


	4. Can You Dig It

**AN: I am so sorry this took so long. I've been very very busy with school, but I hope you enjoy!**

The warm summer day had quickly turned into a cold, humid night. The house was far too stuffy to stay in, and the Go-Go was far too crowded. This left the Monkees (plus one) with not much to do. They'd all agreed to go down to the beach and try to cool off. Micky and Peter were buys playing a game of 'Monkee In the Middle' with Davy's hat.

"OH COME ON, MAN, IT'S JUST CUZ I'M SHORT!", His screaming rang out across the empty beach, making Micky laugh even harder.

Sammy laughed too, watching the whole fiasco. She was sitting alone on a towel, wearing her polka dot bikini and drinking a coke. The cool wind blew her bangs away from her face, feeling amazing against her skin. Letting out a happy sigh, she looked further down the beach and noticed Mike standing all by himself. He was staring at the water, letting it splash over his feet. All in all, he looked pretty miserable.

"Are you okay?", The Texan jumped, hearing Sammy's voice from right behind him. He whipped around to see her looking up at him with her big, blue eyes. She looked worried.

"Hm? Oh yeah, yeah, I'm alright." He turned back to stare at the water.

_"GUYS I WANT MY HAaAaaAT"_

Sammy and Mike laughed, hearing poor Davy start to loose his breath. The two grew silent again and Sammy walked up closer to him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the nice, cool air and the calming waves. Davy had managed to kick Micky in the chins and gain his hat back, making said drummer whine in the sand.

"I was really scared, man." Mike mumbled, kicking the sand.

She looked back up at him surprised, "About what?"

He scoffed, "When you were at the hospital, knocked out. Micky was busy cryin', Peter never left your hand un-held, and Davy was gettin' all the business done. Nothin' for me to do but worry 'bout you. " He looked back down at his feet. "You're our best friend, man. We love you and I want you to remember so bad. What if you never remember us again..." His voice cracked and he put a hand over his eyes. He didn't budge when he felt two arms wrap around him.

"I know, I know, I want to remember too." She set her head on his side, squeezing. "I'm remembering stuff all the time, though."

Mike peaked out from his fingers, "Really?"

She nodded, "Yeah, all kinds of little things." She squeezed him again. "Like how Peter always wakes me up on Saturdays, so I can watch the Beatles cartoon with him." Mike nodded, feeling better. "And...and how Davy snores so loud, we have to sound-proof his and Davy's room." Mike laughed, putting his arms around her shoulders. "Or that you always come to me when you need a good hug." She smiled and squeezed him one last time.

Mike sniffed, wiping his eyes, "Yeah, yeah I do." The two turned around to investigate the situation.

Peter's giggling had hit maximum capacity, and Micky was still lying down in the sand, rubbing his leg. Davy was slashing in the water, wearing his hat proudly. The blonde had fallen over, almost landing on the drummer and started giggling even louder. Micky groaned, grabbing at the loose sand.

Sammy ran over to help Micky and Peter up, while Davy wandered back onto land. Before Mike came to join them, he watched her run to the others and waited till she was out of earshot.

"I love you." The sentence was hardly over a whisper, and he doubted anyone had heard it. Either way, he felt guilty. Kicking the sand one last time, he wandered over to the mess of a band with a silent guilt building in his gut.

Sammy sat alone in the dark living room, wrapped in layer upon layer of blanket and sheet. She was having a hard time falling asleep, she was just sitting in the dark, thinking about everything. The house was quiet, except for the distant snores of Davy from downstairs. Peter was moving around in his sleep, she could hear the bed creaking. Mike had gone out, _ 'Need to drive around some', _he'd said. She let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her eyes.

"_Psst",_ She heard the upstairs door open and the floorboards creak. Looking up, she saw Micky wrapped in a red robe and his hair going off in different directions. He looked so warm and cozy. He gave her a warm smile, turning to go down the stairs.

When he made it to the first floor, she scooted over to make room. The drummer took a seat on the messy futon and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Can't sleep, huh?", his voice was croaky, like he'd just woken up. Did she wake him up? She hoped not.

"Yeah," she yawned, leaning into his warm side. So warm, so cozy.

He laughed, running his hand up and down her arm. "No wonder, man, it's so cold down here.", she hadn't noticed before, but her breath was actually showing when she breathed! And in California?

She shivered, pulling the blanket closer to herself. Micky smiled, kissing the top of her head. "You know, my bed's pretty warm.."

Pulling away quickly, she shook her head.

He put his hands up defensively, "Hey, hey, no! I know, you're not into that, I know!", He took her hand, "I just don't want you to freeze to death, babe."

She blushed, looking down at her hands. The idea of sex had never really appealed to her, and she thought that made her freak. Suddenly a spark blew in her mind, making her stand up.

_"Wow so you..you don't... like sex?"_

_"Nope. Not one bit."_

_Micky bit his lip, looking down at his bare stomach. _

_"Oh." Was all he said. He sounded very shocked._

_Sammy felt terrible, like she'd lead him on. Now he'd think she was a freak, and that she used hi,._

_"I'm...sorry...", she got up to leave the room, but Micky grabbed her hand._

_He smiled, "Hey, don't worry about it. We don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just..." he threw himself down on the bed and grinned, "Cuddle till our hearts give out."_

_She grinned down at him and laughed, "Yeah, I like that..."_

_"I like anything that I do with you."_

"Sammy? Sammy? What is it?", Micky stood up, following her.

She whipped around and kissed him, pulling him close. Every day she was remembering different things about him, making her love him all over again. He shrugged, following her lead. When she pulled away, he was out of breath and giggling. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"

He grinned and took her hand, leading her up the spiral stairs. When they made it into the room, Micky led her towards the bed and gently shut the door behind him. The lava lamp and fairy lights were dimly lighting the dirty room, creating a surprisingly romantic scene. The heating vent was rattling in the corner, filling the room with luxurious heat, making Sammy visibly relax. Micky smiled, watching her sink into the messy sheets and blankets. He sat down on the bed next to her, running his hands through her (freezing! What was it still wet when she went to bed?), hair.

Eventually, he sank down into the warm bed, too. Wrapping one of the many blankets around himself, he felt the bed shift. Before he knew it, Sammy had pushed herself against him and dragged one of his arms around her middle. Even the poking and prodding of her spine in his side was better than nothing at all, and he let out a happy sigh.

Almost an hour later, the peaceful quiet was shattered by Sammy's sleepy voice.

"Hey, Micky?"

He looked down at her and smiled, "Yeah?"

She took a minute before rolling over to face him and smiled back. They laid there like that for a while, smiling at each other in the dark room, before Sammy said, "I love you."

Micky felt like jumping up and screaming.

But he didn't.

He laid there, with his best friend on his arm, in their warm bed, smiling at each other. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, before leaning their foreheads together.

"Love you too."

**AN:**

**Yay! A long chapter!**

**What did you all think?**

**Please leave a review so I can improve, (you don't have to, of course...)**

**:)**


	5. Papa Gene's Blues

**AN: VINCENT VAN GO-GO FINALLY!**

**Also, I thought this was getting a little too serious, so to counter-act that...*drumroll*...There will be a series of crazy Monkees-esque events in this and the following chapters!**

Mike wanted to scream. He wanted to just take in as much oxygen as his poor lungs would allow, and let it all out into one screech. Wanted to scream until his throat wouldn't let him scream again. As insane as it sounded, (even to himself), he just wanted to take Sammy and shake her until she remembered. Until they could go back to being normal.

Although, he didn't want to go back to being normal, either. Their 'normal' life wasn't ideal. No, it wasn't the almost weekly Peter-nappings , or the monthly 'Davy's fallen in love and we need to save her life', or even the 'Micky won't wake up and his science kit is out'. No, all of that was just fine, actually preferable to a regular Joe day. What he needed to feel normal was almost unattainable. The only possible way of receiving this one thing was to breakup the band.

As much as it physically pained him, as guilty as it made him feel; he loved Sammy Jo.

Just thinking about it made him sick. He felt awful, he loved Sammy Jo. Micky's girl. Micky's very _very _important girl. Before Sammy jumped into their lives, Micky had been depressed and angry, he'd even snapped at Peter once for missing a chord. Everyone had been at each other's necks constantly. But when Sammy showed up, it was like a fog had lifted over the band and all was right. Everyone was happy.

It started slowly at first, with just noticing how nice her dress looked, or how pretty her new headband was. Then it tumbled out of control. First, he started acting awkwardly around her, (she thought he was being funny and she laughed, God he loved her laugh), and recently he'd taken up the habit of cuddling with one of his spare pillows.

When Micky and Sammy had started sharing a bed, the three had all agreed to hang up a curtain in the middle of the room, for the benefit of the lady's privacy. She'd spend a few minutes shimming into a dress, then the curtain would be opened once again. That's the way it went, for a almost a year. But after Mike had gotten the brilliant Pillow idea, he'd started shutting the curtain before he went to bed.

"BOO!", Mike nearly jumped out of his boots, hearing the loud yell from right him. He whipped around, expecting to see some form of demon demanding the beach-house. But instead, he was met with Micky's victorious smirk.

"AW, MAN, Why do ya have to do that?", He put a hand over his heart and tried to breath normally.

Micky just laughed and patted his shoulder, "Sorry, man, but I saw the opportunity and I had to take it..." The drummer was still in his striped night shirt, hair flying every-which way. He was shuffling around in a pair of (Mike's) slippers and searching for breakfast.

"Hold on a minute an' I'll cook somethin'," Mike pushed his way into the kitchen and didn't look back at the shorter man. Too guilty.

When he'd gotten home the night before, (almost 1 in the morning, if you asked Davy the stern parent,) he'd snuck quietly into the living room, only to find the futon empty. Not thinking much of it, he climbed the stairs and went to his and Micky's room to toss his jacket on the floor and pass out. In the dimly lit room, he'd seen Sammy and Micky sprawled out in the tiny bed, Sammy with her face buried in Micky's hair. It made him angry, and it made his angry _that it made him angry._

Shaking his head, he started working on breakfast.

"AND THEN WE CAN DANCE AFTER THE GIG AND IT WOULD BE SO SO FUN." Peter talked to Sammy loudly about their gig later that night, whiling trying to keep his Kellogg's in his mouth.

The band had a show at the Vincent Van Go-Go later that night. Their first gig since Sammy's accident. The boys had wanted her to stay home and take it easy, but Sammy wanted to see them play.

"I don't remember seeing you all live, this'll be fun! Please?", She and Peter had given Davy and Mike the puppy dog look, leaving both helpless.

The two 'parents' had eventually agreed, "But watch yourself, got it?" Davy asked, pointing his spoon at her sternly.

She nodded, biting into a piece of toast, "Got it!"

Peter cheered happily, hugging her. "I'll sing extra loud, just for you!" He went back to eating his mushy cereal, not noticing the chorus of painful moans come from the others. Micky bit his fingers and hid behind Sammy's shoulder, making her laugh.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll protect you." She kissed him on the cheek and smiled at her. They rubbed noses and went back to their own food.

Nobody noticed Mike gripping his spoon extra hard.

Sammy groaned, looking in the mirror. The band was getting dressed for their show, the regular 'red shirt, grey pants' shindig, which left her out.

She'd put on a paisly, purple dress with a peace sign belt resting on her high hips. The knee high, white boots boosted her height a few inches, making her most likely taller than Davy. Her hair was loaded with spray, so it wouldn't fall when she was dancing. She didn't know how she felt about the whole get-up.

The dress showed off her tummy, (which she was usually very good at hiding,) but at least it had long sleeves, (thank God). The boots had barely gone up her legs, squishing them quit uncomfortably. All in all, she was wanted to crawl under the blankets and never leave the house like this.

Just when she was about to change into something else, she heard Davy's voice shouting.

"We need to go! Hurry up, girly!" Heaving a sigh and checking her makeup one last time, she opened the door and stepped down the stairs.

Micky was explaining to Peter about how his latest experiment was going, but was cut short when he saw Sammy step out.

She looked down at her boots, fiddling with her peace sign necklace. "I'm ready whenever you guys are..." Still feeling pretty awful about the dress, she looked up and met Micky's eyes. The drummer's eyes were wide, like he'd been looking at the sun too long. Sammy looked down again, thinking about how horrible she must look.

"Wow, you look..." Micky walked up to her and smiled, grabbing her hands. He leaned in close to her ear, "You look real groovy, sweetie," He whispered and kissed her cheek sweetly. He wrapped an arm around her middle, placing his hand on her tummy.

"You do look, nice," Davy smiled, and Peter nodded happily while strumming his bass.

Sammy looked at Mike, expectedly.

The texan smiled and nodded, before moving for the front door. "Let's go, guys."

The couple looked at each other confusedly, but shrugged, heading out the door with the others.

"Well, this is it, love. The Vincent Van Go-Go!", Davy waved his arms around, pointing at the different things in the empty club. Sammy looked around, recognizing everything almost instantly. The Go-Go was her home away from home. She remembered spending hours upon hours dancing with Micky, and when Micky got tired, she danced with Peter, and when Peter was tired, Mike was always happy to fill in. Davy danced with her every once in a while, but he was mainly concerned with the other pretty birds.

Micky walked beside her around the club, holding her hand and pointing things out.

"And this is where we almost got-"

"Mauled by the pack of girls, but they hit the wrong guys!", Sammy laughed, cutting him off and remembering one of the funniest experiences of her life. "Oh! And then later, you got kidnapped and had that big party!"

"YES!", Micky jumped up excitedly, biting his knuckles. He kissed her on the lips, making a loud 'popping' sound. "YOU'RE DOING GREAT, BABE!" She laughed, pushing him away and blushing.

"Come on guys, we gotta get set up before everyone shows up..." Mike hopped up onstage to check the sound.

With 25 minutes left until the big show, Sammy took the time to wander around the quiet club and think up new memories. She sat down at a table and happily watched Micky drum. She didn't even notice Mike desperately looking at her.

**_AN: Heey _**

**_Sorry if the interludes or confusing, but FF won't let me fix it?  
Any who, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter and let me know what you think!  
ILYA_**


	6. Sweet Young Thing

**AN: Behold, in this chapter we actually talk about the whole '2015 thing' by request! Hope you enjoy!**

35 minutes into the show, Sammy had out-danced almost every guy who'd offered. The pattern went; a guy would come up, offer to dance, she would agree, and dance until he was sweating buckets through his suit. And it happened over and over. She felt bad for a few of them, but she just wanted to dance, and have them leave her alone.

Mike watched carefully from behind the glare of the stage lights, seeing her bounce up and down. So far, at least 3 boys had come and gone. She would take breaks in between dances, sipping on Dr. Pepper and laughing with other girls. He would give her a warm smile when she looked up, even if he knew her gaze was directed towards the singing drummer behind him. It wouldn't kill to pretend for just a few seconds.

"All right, folks. For our last song we'd like to do a..a new number called 'The Kind of Girl I Could Love'", he waited for the cheering to lower, "o..ok, here we go,"

**You look mighty good to me...**

While he sang, his eyes never left the dancing girl. He followed her through the crowd, seeing her eagerly bounce in between people and laugh. He smiled, remembering how quickly the others would get tired, and then he'd finally get to dance with her again.

Finishing the number, Davy bowed and leaped off stage, towards a ginger girl he'd been staring at all night. Mike smiled again, because now there were only two songs left until he could dance with her. He shook himself out of those thoughts, feeling like a kicked dog, and a horrible friend. He set his guitar down and went to get a drink.

_"So you...you actually created an entire fake life?"_ Micky and Sammy were sitting at the bar, sharing a plate of chips and talking about her accident.

She nodded, "Yeah", she nodded, biting a chip.

"In your _head_?", Micky looked astounded, watching his girlfriend eat.

"It was real trippy, y'know?" She took a drink. "It felt like the real thing, I really felt like I was in the future."

The drummer blinked, sitting back in his stool. "Wow...like, what do you remember?"

She shrugged, "Oh, lots of stuff, I guess. I remember HD T.V., and skinny jeans, and-"

"Were the Monkees still there?"

"OH! Oh, yeah!", she sat up straight, "In my little world, the Monkees was an old T.V. show for kids!"

Micky's face scrunched up in disgust , making a 'bleh' noise and sticking his tongue out.

"Don't worry, It was really really funny. I would watch it after school." She laughed and grabbed his hand, "I had a big crush on you."

He smiled, "Why, of course, I am...the sexy one," He wagged his eyebrows and she giggled. "Were we old in 2015?" He looked excited.

She nodded, "Yeah, I remember. You looked really good," He laughed victoriously, "but Mike looked like a turkey..." Micky laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair.

"And Davy?! What about Davy?! Was he an angry, little, old man?", He had a tear running down his cheek. He stopped laughing when he noticed Sammy looking solemnly at her glass. "Hey, what's wrong,babe? You ok?"

She didn't answer and Micky grabbed her arm, "Don't worry about it. I'll stop talking and we can dance, sound good?"

Smiling and nodding, Sammy got up from her seat and dragged Micky to the dance floor.

_Peter sat alone at one of the tables_, sipping a glass of milk and waiting for Davy to come back. The brit had gone off to talk to that ginger girl, Tammy, again. It was the same after every show. The band would do their thing, Micky would scream and jump off the stage, Mike would wander over to a corner by himself until Sammy asked him to dance, and then Peter and Davy would sit and talk for a few minutes. That is, until Davy got the courage to talk to whatever girl caught his attention that night.

The blonde always wondered why this seemed to be so ritual to the others. It actually bored him quit a bit, and he wanted it to change. He sighed sadly, looking at his glass.

"Hey, there, cutie. How about a dance?"

Snapping his attention back towards reality, Peter saw a beautiful blonde sitting across from him. Her hair was up in a beehive style, messed up from dancing. She had the prettiest smile the bassist had ever seen. Nodding and giggling, he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

_"What's the matter, baby?", _Tammy wrapped her arms around Davy's neck, leaning into him while they danced.

The brit shook his head, turning his attention back to the girl. He'd watched as Peter was happily tugged into the crowd of dancers and felt a tug of nervousness hit his stomach. "It's nothing, love. Just... " He shook his head again, "It was nothing. Let's just dance!"

_Sammy laughed, watching Micky whip his head back and forth to the music. _They'd been dancing for almost 5 songs straight, never slowing down. Her makeup must've been running down her cheeks, but she didn't care. She cared about having fun with Micky, because she remembered the warm feeling she got whenever she made him laugh, as cheesy as it is.

Eventually, though, Micky couldn't see through the sweat draining into his eyes and he couldn't feel his legs. Panting and leaning against her shorter frame he panted, "I gotta...I gotta go sit..." He trudged over to Peter's now empty table and collapsed into one of the chairs. He watched in a tired haze as Mike swooped out of seemingly nowhere and asked her to dance. Just when Micky was about to get up for a drink, a girl with short, black hair and heavy mod makeup sat down next to him.

She smelled like rose water and smoke, leaning in close enough for Micky to get a sniff of the alluring scent.

"Oh, poor guy, are you here all alone?", She purred, placing a dainty hand on his shoulder.

He snapped out of the trance, shaking his head. "Wh-? Ah, no, actually! My, uh, my girlfriend, she's", the girl started leaning in towards him, while he leaned away. "You see, miss, my _girlfriend_, yeah, she's right-" He started pointing at the dance floor and but the mystery girl had gotten too close. Their lips met and Micky was immediately pulled into the spell. Before it got too far, Micky managed to pry the woman away from his face.

"What is it?!", she sounded so impatient.

He was breathing heavily, trying to regain his composure, "My _girlfriend _is right over there, dancing!"

The girl turned to look, seeing he was pointing at a girl with a brown honeycomb, laughing and dancing with a tall boy in the same outfit as Micky, and a green, wool cap.

Rolling her eyes she said, "What does it matter? She's obviously more into _him_, anyway." As the Kinks faded out, the Beatles 'And I Love Her', quickly filled in the silence.

"What? No, that's crazy, that's-" he turned to look, seeing Sammy leaning against Mike and smiling, with her head resting on his chest. The Texan was holding one of her hands, and had the other wrapped around her shoulders. The two were rocking back and forth and laughing, taking absolutely no notice of Micky's stares.

The drummer bit his fingers, making a low whining noise. "That's crazy," he muttered, turning back to the woman.

"Oh, boo, i'm sorry. But sometimes things just happen for the best," She was looking into a portable mirror, applying her lipstick. She sure didn't look sorry.

Micky didn't care, he just wanted to kiss her again, and he soon got what he wanted.

The girl grabbed his face again, crashing their lips together. She quickly pulled away, standing up to go. Before Micky could even comprehend what was happening, the room started spinning and fading away. The mystery lady looked at him and waved, and everything went black.

**_AN:_**

**Some silly Monkees stuff is going to go down, I swear!  
What did you think, huh? Pretty...spooky, right?  
I really don't like to write Mike as a spiteful, jealous guy, so I'm trying to do my best with it...**

**Well, leave me back some feedback and suggestions, please! It really does help!**


	7. I Wanna Be Free

**AN: I'm writing these in class, oh wow...**

"Micky? Where'd you go?", Sammy wandered around the quiet club, searching for the drummer who'd seemed to vanish. Mike walked up next to her, scratching his wool hat.

"Any sign of Micky?", she shook her head, looking worried, "Man, I can't find Davy or Peter, either." He put his hands on his hips and huffed, looking around the club. The club had closed over and hour ago and the others were nowhere to be found.

Sammy fiddled with the hem of her dress, trying to think of where he went. "Wasn't he...I saw him talking to a really pretty...girl when we were dancing..", she coughed, "You don't think...you don't think he-"

Mike's eyes grew wide and he shook his head violently, "No! He wouldn't, he ain't like that!" He spun around, "You know those girls that all the other guys were talkin' to?"

"What about them?" She was too busy worrying about Micky to concentrate on anything else.

"Well, do ya think the guys were...,"

"You don't mean..."

"I'm afraid ma'am, they've been..."

The two let out a heavy gasp and looked off into the distance.

"MONKEE-NAPPED!", They said in unison.

_Peter woke up with a splitting headache_, lazily lifting his head up and opening his eyes to a dark room. He couldn't move his arms and he felt his legs being weighed down.

"Oh, look who's waking up, girls!", Somebody ran her fingers through his hair to get his attention. "Oh, does your head hurt?"

"Mmmmmmm..." He closed his eyes again, trying to fall back into sleep. One of the other girls grabbed his chin and leaned in close to his face.

"Where are the files?" Her voice had gone from sweet and caring, to pure venom.

Peter completely opened his eyes and looked at them. It was the three women from the GoGo! Letting out a heavy gasp, he tried to move away, but just ended up wobbling the chair back and forth.

This woke up Davy and Micky, who were just as confused as the blonde.

"Wha- where are we?!", Micky demanded, pulling at the ropes on his hands.

Tammy let out a laugh, walking towards the drummer. "You really think we'd tell you that, doll?", She sat down on his lap and grabbed his chin, "Now, why don't you tell me where those files are?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!", He tried to shake the girl off of his lap, but to no avail. Thankfully, she stood up and let out an angry sigh.

"Well, girls, looks like we'll need to keep them until they spill the beans..."

Davy let out a loud, "OH!", getting the others' attention, "Well if you wanted the beans I could've spilled them a long time ago! I mean-" He pulled out a can of Heinz Baked Beans from behind his back, (with untied hands), and turned the can upside down. The icky substance splattered on the floor and on onto the girls' shoes. Peter started giggling and nodding his head at the pun, shaking his chair.

"OH, STOP THAT!", The brunette grabbed the can from the Brit and threw it across the room. The loud clang echoed in the now quiet room, and Davy placed his hands back behind the chair. Shrugging, he looked at the camera and mouthed

_'Sponsorship?'_

_Meanwhile_,Mike and Sammy had driven the Monkee-mobile back to the beach house in the hopes of finding the band.

"They're not in here!", from the bathroom.

"Not in here, either!", from under Peter's chair.

They'd been looking under every nook and cranny, watching for any sign of the three others. So far, they'd only found the drunken cleaning lady, which was odd, considering it wasn't the second Thursday of a month that had an 'R' in it.

The two met up downstairs in the living room, looking even more worried than before.

"Did you find anything, yet?", Mike asked, scratching his hat.

Sammy shook her head, "Just two nickels and a magical skull that can answer any question in the universe, like if your friends were missing...", she tossed the skull over her shoulder and pocketed the change, letting out a heavy sigh. They both sat down on the couch and looked desperately at the wall. They were shocked when they heard the phone ring from the kitchen.

"It's the phone!", Mike jumped up and over the couch, nearly tripping.

Sammy elected to run around the couch and pushed the Texan out of the way. The two fought to answer the phone for nearly two minutes, picking at it. Eventually Mike had won, pushing the girl's face out of the way.

"H-hello?", he let got of her face and grabbed the receiver with both hands. Sammy stood up on a chair and leaned her face onto the receiver to hear. Mike tried not to blush and listened to the voice on the other line.

"You what? You _monster_ how could you! You'l fry for this!", he slammed the phone down and turned to Sammy, who was now eye level with him.

"Well?", she was nearly crying. Had they been killed?

"'Bucky's Chinese' is closing."

Sammy let out a heavy moan, nearly ripping the cap off of him and chucking it into the sea. Before she had the chance tho, the phone rang again and this time, she'd pushed him out of the way.

"Hello?", she was breathing heavily and very worried.

"Is this the Monkee-house?", a sweet voice said from the other line.

"Y-yes it is..do..do you have..."

"The boys?Why yes, yes we do. And we don't intend to give 'em back 'till we get those files."

"Files, what files?", he voice was shaking and she turned to Mike for reassurance, he was mouthing 'what?', and Sammy turned from him.

"Don't play stupid, the blonde's already on it!", a soft 'hey' could be heard from the background.

"I don't know what you're-" Suddenly another voice came on the line. Heavier than the last, but higher pitched. Annoyingly high pitched.

"How about this. Either we get the files in by tonight, around midnight, or you get your boys back. In body bags. Leave the files in the front parlor of the old city museum. See you then,"

The line cut and Sammy set the receiver down.

"What was that?", Mike looked very confused.

She ignored him, taking a seat at the kitchen table and gulping. The Texan sat down next to her and grabbed her shoulder, "What was _that_?", he insisted again.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him and sniffed. "They're gonna kill them if we...if we don't give them the files.", She looked back down and started crying into her hands. She was so scared. Mike grabbed her hands and squeezed them.

"Files?What files?", he was just as confused as her, and completely lost.

She looked back up and let out a heavy breath, "I don't know, they wouldn't believe me, they said to leave them at the old museum down town and we'd get the guys back," Her voice was cracking and soft.

"Now, come on, don't cry now.", he rubbed her shoulder, "We've been in situations like this before, haven't we?"

Sammy nodded, not looking up.

"And when we were in those situations, what'd we do?", he was standing up now and getting louder.

She sniffed, "We...we came up with a bunch of different plans that never worked until it all worked itself out..."

"Right- wait, no!", he put his hands on his hips, "Y'know, sometimes a Monkee's gotta do what a Monkee's gotta do, and if that means a few trials and errors then well..." he shrugged.

"What are you one about, my boyfriend's going to get shot!", she was aggravated at this point.

"What i'm on about is: why are we sittin' here like a couple o' chickens when we should be out there saving the guys?!"

"You...you don't mean...", Sammy was standing up now, too, looking into the distance.

"I do," Mike said.

They both ran behind separate sets of furniture and popped back in out in mere seconds, wearing red and black body suits with bright pink 'M's sewn on the chest. They stood in the living room pulling heroic poses for a few minutes before standing still and yelling,

"THE MONKEE-MEN."

Which resulted in a loud knock at the door and a very angry Babbit busting in.

"All right guys, all right!", He actually looked at the two standing in the living room and let out a sigh, "...what is it _now_?"

Mike stepped forward and played with the sleeve of his suit, "Well, uh, y'see, Babbit we...we uh, we're kinda...we're kinda saving our best friends, y'see and we-"

"I don't care," he said with an exasperated tone, "As long as ya don't got no animals and yer not screamin' at the top of yer lungs, got it?"

The two residence shook there head in unison and the landlord smiled before slamming the door shut again. Mike and Sammy looked at each other before silently whispering, "The Monkee-men!"

_"You'll never get away with this, y'know.", _Davy spat while trying to squirm out of his chair. The girls laughed, pulling the rope tighter.

"And what makes you think that, sugar?", the brunette one asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Mike and Sammy'll save us!", Peter yelled, yanking at his ropes.

"Yeah!", Micky was glaring at the brunette and pulling at his ropes as hard as he could.

The girl looked shocked, and giggled. "Really, sugar? After you all _you,_" She leaned in close and ran her nail along his face, "kissed _me." _She laughed and pulled away again, "Maybe if you'd actually been faithful, you and your friends wouldn't be in this situation, huh?"

The drummer stopped struggling a looked down at his lap. She was right, it was his fault they were here. If he just hadn't been so _jealous _of Mike dancing with Sammy... He sat back in his chair in defeat and waited.

**New chapter yay!**

**I hope you enjoyed, and please review! **


	8. Words

**A/N: I'm so sorry i've been gone for so long! I decided to take a little break, but i'm back!**

_Micky couldn't see where he was going, just barely recognizing lights and shadows through the tight blindfold. _Sharp fingers jabbed at his back, leading him in this direction or that. All he could do was blindly follow their instructions and bump into the others. He could hear Peter giggling, probably from one of the women poking his ticklish ribs.

"OH, SHUT IT!", One of the girls shrieked. Micky smiled, almost _seeing _her toss her arms in the air in exasperation of the blonde. "Stop laughing!", her sharp voice caused his smile to drop immediately, remembering where they were.

The drummer let out a heavy sigh and kept walking until he felt himself being led into a dark car.

••••••••

_"Where are they?" _Sammy paced back and forth, cape bellowing behind her in the cold air. Her heels clacked against the concrete in a rhythmic pattern, creating just enough distraction for Mike as he leaned against the stone wall, counting the steps the girl would take, (7), before turning around and starting over.

The two were waiting outside of the city museum, minutes before midnight, just as the women had instructed.

"They'll be here, they gotta be." Mike tried his hardest to comfort her, practically seeing the nervous energy burst out of her ears. "And when they get here," He stood up straight from the wall and smirked, "The Monkee-men will put it right."

The short girl smiled, biting her nail. "You're right, they'll be here..", she sat down on the steps leading to the door, nervously watching as cars passed them by. Mike sat down next to her, taking her hand. She squeezed it and blinked away fearful tears.

"Monkees don't cry," Mike's voice cut the silence, snapping Sammy out of her thoughts.

"Huh?", she looked over to him, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"It's what you always say," he looked at her blank face and sighed, "Remember when that real groovy chick, with the big hair, broke it off with Davy? He came home sobbing and wouldn't talk to any of us."

She nodded, looking down at her feet.

"You told him that Monkees don't cry. That we're a family and we'll get through anything, because Monkees don't cry." Smiling, Sam wiped away a stray tear and nodded her head.

"You'-" Just was she was about to reply, Mike jumped up and dragged her up with him.

He pushed her to the ally beside the building and put his finger to his lips. The barely looked around the corner to find a car pulling up to the front of the museum and cutting the engine off.

The two watched the stationary car for what seemed like hours, until the driver's side door opened and a short woman stepped out.

"That's the girl that was talkin' to Micky before he went missing!", Mike whispered behind Sammy, grabbing her shoulder. Sammy nodded nervously, grabbing at the hand. The Texan's heart almost skipped a beat.

The two ducked back behind the wall, waiting to make a surprise entrance. They huddled close together and tried to come up with a plan. Halfway through their scheming though, they heard a high-pitched voice, the same from the phone.

"See? Nobody here! It's like they don't even want this lot back."

"Do you blame them?" Another female voice, followed by a muffled 'hey!' from Davy.

The sound of the short man's voice caught Sammy's attention first, causing her to throw her head up and bump it into Mike's nose.

He let out a profound, "OW!", grabbing at his nose and toppling over. Sammy had tried to catch him before he fell to the hard ground, but she just wound up landing on top of him.

The next thing the two knew, there were three women standing above them, watching them rub their bruises. Looking back at each other, Mike jumped up and grabbed Sammy, dragging her up with him. The two brushed each other off before stumbling into their 'heroic' poses.

The women weren't impressed, standing with hands on their hips and half lidded eyes. One even had the audacity to yawn!

"So, have you got the stuff or not?", the red headed one perked in, coughing.

"Well, that depends! Do you have our friends?", Mike stood taller than all four women, but still felt incredibly intimidated.

The ginger snorted, "Yeah we have them," she pointed towards her bean-covered shoes.

The Monkeemen looked at each other, "Davy". they said in unison. They turned back to the girls.

"We'll give you the files, if we get the boys first." Sammy stepped in front of the Texan, pushing her shoulders back. She could easily take down the three twigs in front of her, but she needed to be peaceful first.

"_FAT _chance, shorty," The blonde giggled at her pun, throwing her head back.

'Oh no,' Mike barely had a chance to grab at Sammy before she was lunging forward.


End file.
